People R Nice

One of the best things about running this joint is receiving an e-mail from one of our sweet pals with an amazing tune, going, I think you might like it, gosh knows we do! Or a nice CD in the post…Or just stumbling upon a band on the myspace and pressing play and being blown away by the sheer awesomeness coming out of the rose-tinted blue of hope with which we roam the damp basement of the edifice of modern music looking for surprises, and always finding them.

Music is shit these days? Like Patrick Swayze said, maybe you’re looking for love in all the wrong places buddy!

Max Tundra is one of our favouritest artists, nay, people in the world, a one-man intersection of talent, fun, wicked dance moves and crazy voices showing up in your house or party or stereo with a tesco carrier bag full of treats and getting it started like the wonderful wizard of prog colourful electronica pop he is, winter is coming and we’re going to need some nice melodies to keep warm, we shall keep Max (Ben) well close like some sort of aural musical simmering hearth powered by sugar-coated coal nuggets like this.

Where the melodies intertwine creating a crazy kaleidoscope which explodes into a flock of non-feral doves, to fly in the air, away from the harsh city streets into the distant rainbow. This tune is one of David Shrigley’sWorried Noodles (which also includes putting songs to Shrigley’s words people like Liars, Les Georges Leningrad and Phil Elverum amongst others, yarrr).

I could tell you how much I love this guy but then I would explode into a crazy collection of white and black exclamation marks, just check this out, it was on Lorrita’s myspace and stuff.

A parcel from whence the stamped naughty Tigersushi tiger grins coy is always bound to contain a nice surprise, and Principles of Geometry deliver on that promise with Lazare, just check out ‘A Mountain for President’, a perfect gem of melancholy space power balladry featuring none other than our beloved cosmic trovadour Sebastian Tellier who contributes vocals ethereal enough to be played while cruising the rings of Saturn on a neon starship with John Carpenter riding shotgun, the sun emerges around the smooth cyclopean sphere burning the darkness of space with an impression of smooth yet blinding beauty.

The rest of the album is similarly awesome, particularly when it goes all Terry Riley Andomedan melodies and Jackson and His Computer Band glitched up the right side of chopped up legobeats epic riffarama, France keeps surprising us, salut!

Then for some glittering lo-fi indie post-punk treasures left on the wake of that music whirlwind Art for Spastics is, like the lovely phased out melody of Hey Buddy and the Pals’ ‘I Want My Hat’

Creating a ring of fire inside which the kids with greasy hair, torn jeans and weird ideas can freak out in oblivious happiness as it all reaches a most excellent stuttering tumbling muchly yet never falling crescendo almost like a pegasus flying down from the starry sky to join the best party in the middle of the forests you ever had, like Eastern Art and good DIY, the imperfections of this tune only add to the wonderfulness of its sonic pattern, and it reminds us of fuzz drunk Siltbreeze stars Times New Viking, or Social Registry universe-smashing guitar stalwarts Blood on the Wall. Winner. Drop them a line and check out their aces demo.

Or lovely melodies such as those contained in the short and sweet minute and a half c for crayola 86 stomp of No Paws (No Lions)’ ‘I’ve always been content laughing and lying in the fields of banning’, angelic melodies raise once again pretty like fluttering eyelashes in a launderette romance, accompanied by the eternal teenage oscillation of happy/sad feelings perfectly rendered real by the plinking plonking melody of a toy piano on top of which diminutive replicas of Y Pants could have perfectly been having a pillow fight, we thank these awesome girls for bringing us memories of one of the best bands to ever be, this tune is the caring stuff that awesome zines, love letters and night telephone conversations are made of, and it doesn’t get any better than that, or does it.